


And You?

by foxxing (gayfantasticfour)



Series: This Is All Yours [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Drinking, Drunk blowjobs, M/M, aka edging, blueballing, boi - Freeform, partial handjob (over the pants)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:31:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayfantasticfour/pseuds/foxxing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Park Jinyoung is annoyingly intuitive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And You?

**Author's Note:**

> **part TWO in a four part series of Jinyoung ships
> 
> **part FOUR is hyungline/Jinyoung foursome which is why that's in the tags however the foursome is NOT in this one
> 
> **split into four parts:  
> part one: jjp  
> part two: markjin  
> part three: jinson  
> part four: hyungline/jinyoung
> 
> **each part is a different POV:  
> part one: jb's POV  
> part two: mark's POV  
> part three: jackson's POV  
> part four: jinyoung's POV
> 
> **these are TECHNICALLY stand alone one-shots, so you can read whichever one without getting spoiled or missing a key plot point, except for part 4, which will allude to the previous 3 parts.
> 
> **sorry for any spelling/grammar errors sdjklsfg

He doesn't even realize he's staring at Jinyoung until there's a pair of fingers snapping in front of his face. 

"Mark hyung," Jinyoung says, waving a little. Mark blinks slowly, shaking his head like he'd just been woken up. 

"What?"

Jinyoung smiles at him, and it makes his already warm chest feel even warmer. They've been drinking wine for a few hours now, the two of them getting some alone time away from the other boys after two straight weeks of schedules on schedules on schedules. At first he'd just wanted to be alone, sleeping off the stress in his room until the sun came up and went back down again, but Jinyoung had flashed him a pout that had him feeling a little weak in the knees. It was, as it usually is with Jinyoung, impossible to say no. 

"You looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open. Are you bored?"

"No," Mark says, and it's not a lie. Jinyoung is calmer when he drinks than some of the other members, but not in a way that bores him. "A little tired, yeah, but not bored."

Jinyoung smiles at him around the rim of his wine glass, and maybe he's just drunk, but it looks a little flirtatious. He swallows against the butterflies in his stomach. He looks away, turning his head to look off across the water of the Han from where they're sitting on the porch of a nice and dimly lit restaurant near the beach. He's a little more drunk than he thought, his vision swimming as he watches the lights of the city ripple and dance on top of the water. It's pretty, though, and he turns back to Jinyoung to express this. 

"It's pretty out here," he says, and despite the chill in the air, there's sweat collecting at his temples and on his back underneath his jacket. If it's because of the alcohol or his proximity to someone as pretty as Jinyoung, there's no way to tell anymore. If he'd been asked four glasses of wine ago, he would have said its because of the heavy sweatshirt he put on, but now he's not so sure. 

Jinyoung nods slightly in agreement, and Mark can't help but watch when Jinyoung licks his lips after taking another sip of wine. There's a light flush to the younger boy's face that says he's a little more drunk than he's acting. He meets Jinyoung's eyes after staring at his mouth and looks away, embarrassed. 

He hears Jinyoung chuckle under his breath but pretends he doesn't. As the oldest, it's generally assumed that he's the wisest and the most world-weary (which just makes him laugh—he's the oldest, sure, but he's barely older than Jaebum by a handful of months) but, if forced to choose, he would say that Jinyoungie is the wisest out of all of them. That's just his personal opinion, of course; he's sure that Yugyeom would have some sort of protest against that. But in the years since they've started to get to really know each other and bond as friends, he's noticed that Jinyoung is the most intuitive among them. It's especially true in his relationship with Jaebum: they've known each other for so long that most of the time they're communicating with just their eyes, understanding each other so inherently it almost feels intrusive to watch. It's not just with him, though; Mark has seen the way Jinyoung just _notices_  things, seeming to store them away for later use no matter how small or insubstantial it seems. And, in most cases, it's very sweet: on many occasions Jinyoung has done something annoyingly kind for the dongsaengs that they didn't even realize they needed. When it comes to Mark's tiny crush on him, however, he wishes he wasn't so damn intuitive. 

Jinyoung never makes it apparent that he knows, per se, but sometimes the younger boy will smile devilishly at him when he catches Mark's eye across the dressing rooms after taking off his shirt. It's not like he's trying to creep on him—most of the time when he watches Jinyoung take off his shirt in the dressing room or at the dorms it's just because he happened to look at that exact moment. Not because he has a crush on Jinyoung or because he's imagining what that thin, lean body would feel like under his hands. Not at all. 

He tells himself this, anyway. 

"What are you thinking of, hyung?" Jinyoung asks, finishing the rest of his wine in one go with a neat flick of his wrist. Mark is helpless to notice: the color of the wine stains his already plump lips the color of crushed berries, looking like lipstick, and the sight of it drives him a little more wild than he wants it to. _Get it together, Tuan._

He clears his throat a little awkwardly, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets and leaning his chest against the glass table so that his eyes are too low for Jinyoung to meet them. "It's not—it's nothing."

"Are you saying that there's something and it's not important or that you're just thinking of nothing?" 

He's _annoyingly_ intuitive. Mark drops his head to the table, briefly enjoying the cold press of the glass on his warm skin. "I'm thinking of nothing," he says, voice slurred. God, he drank way too much. He can feel Jinyoung's eyes burning holes in the top of his head and pretends like it doesn't please him somewhere deep in his abdomen. 

It's quiet between the two of them for a moment, and Mark keeps his eyes on the ground through the surface of the glass table as the waiter comes and goes, taking their empty glasses. When he leaves again, he hears Jinyoung's chair scrape against the concrete as he stands up and feels a hand on his back a moment later. 

"C'mon, hyung," Jinyoung says softly, his hand burning through his jacket where its resting in between Mark's shoulder blades. "Let's go home." 

When he stands up, his head spins. Four glasses of wine has the world leaning dangerously to the left, his vision feeling skewed and blurry on the edges. He throws a hand out involuntarily, catching at the collar of Jinyoung's jacket to steady himself. Mark laughs a little, face burning from embarrassment and the wine and nervousness. Jinyoung laughs with him, one arm snaking around his waist to balance him. Mark swallows and tries to pretend it doesn't feel as good as it does. 

They walk out to the curb together, Mark trying his best not to stumble. Jinyoung doesn't let go of him even as they stop and wait for a cab, his hand resting on his hip and his delicate fingers curled into one of his belt loops. He hates himself for drinking so much, for being less-than-subtle about the way he watched Jinyoung's mouth all night. He prays that Jinyoung just didn't notice. 

"Mark hyung," Jinyoung says quietly, his voice appearing right next to Mark's ear, making him shiver visibly. _Dammit_. "What are you thinking of?"

Maybe he's just projecting because he's drunk, but the question sounds less innocent than the first time he asked it just a few minutes ago. Mark is suddenly hyper aware of where Jinyoung's fingers are, curled in his belt loops and resting against the waistband of his jeans. The weight of Jinyoung's arm around his waist feels electric, suddenly; he can feel every place that Jinyoung's arm touches his back even through his sweatshirt. He swallows hard, trying to squirm away: being drunk and making a confession don't mix. 

"Jinyoung-ah," he murmurs, turning his head away from where Jinyoung has his resting against Mark's collarbone. He desperately searches the street ahead of them for the cab. If it doesn't come soon, God only knows what he's going to say. "I said I'm thinking of nothing." 

"I don't believe you," the younger boy says, and then his fingers are untangling from his belt loop and making their way up under his sweatshirt. 

The feeling of Jinyoung's fingertips on his stomach makes his breath hitch unevenly, and he keeps his face turned away so that Jinyoung can't see the way his eyes flutter closed in pleasure. Jinyoung doesn't seem to mind, and he trails his fingers lightly across his skin just above the waistband of his jeans. The sensation, seemingly amplified by a thousand because of the wine, sends heat curling up in his gut. A public sidewalk is not a good place to get an erection. 

"Jinyoung-ah," he warns, trying to sound imposing but just sounding a little breathless instead. Jinyoung's fingers are trying to hook themselves into his waistband, so he reaches down and grabs his wrist to still them. He finally looks over, and regrets it when he does: Jinyoung is looking up at him, face flushed a little pink, dark eyes half lidded with a fierce and unmistakable desire and framed by criminally long eyelashes. He swallows, the gaze nearly knocking the breath out of him. Mark squeezes Jinyoung's wrist gently, pulling it carefully away from his hips as the cab pulls up. "Let's go." 

He'a reluctantly relieved when Jinyoung lets go, and Mark gratefully climbs into the cab first. It's a van type cab, and the two of them opt to sit in the very back seat a whole row behind the driver. It's a little darker, more private, but Mark leans against the window anyway. They don't say anything to each other directly, the silence between the two of them is tense after Jinyoung rattles off their address and falls quiet. Mark has his gaze focused out of the window, but he can feel the way Jinyoung is looking at him out of the corner of his eye. He feels like, being the older boy, he should say something about what kind-of happened, but doesn't have the words. What's he supposed to say? I _know you just tried to feel me up in public, and I liked it, but we probably shouldn't do that again._ If there's one thing he isn't, it's dishonest. 

After a few minutes of impressively charged silence, Jinyoung scoots a little closer. Mark swallows nervously but doesn't look over, pretending like he's not paying attention. But then there's a warm hand on his leg, Jinyoung's fingers brushing dangerously at mid-thigh. Mark can still feel Jinyoung's eyes on him, and he has no doubt that his eyes are just as dark and dangerous as they usually are. Seeming to take Mark's lack of resistance as a good sign, Jinyoung slides his hand further up Mark's leg, his slender fingers dragging torturously against the inside of his thigh. His breath is coming unevenly, but he refuses to awknowledge this might actually be happening to him even though he's dreamed it a million times. He stops a few meager inches away from Mark's crotch, the pads of his fingers rubbing circles on the inside of his thigh. The sensation shoots up into his groin, and he's embarrassingly hard almost immediately. 

Suddenly, Jinyoung leans closer, his lips at Mark's ear. "Hyung." 

Mark can't help it—he shivers, the hand not cradling his face clutching at the headrest where his arm is stretched out across the back of the seat. Jinyoung calls him (and the other boys) hyung all the time, so it really shouldn't mean anything to him, but there's something about the way that Jinyoung practically purrs it into his ear that has him breathing unevenly and swallowing. 

When he doesn't say anything, Jinyoung squeezes his thigh, shooting more heat up into his stomach until he feels like he's consumed fire instead of wine. Jinyoung gets bold, sliding his hand up a little further until Mark can just barely feel Jinyoung's fingertips near the crotch of his jeans. He continues to massage circles into Mark's inner thigh, and then he playfully buries his face into Mark's neck. Jinyoung's mouth is dangerously close to his skin now, the younger boy's warm breath ghosting across his throat in a way that makes him want to scream. He grabs Jinyoung's wrist, stilling his fingers but not pulling his hand away. He feels Jinyoung smile into his neck and wants to sigh in defeat. 

"What are you doing?" Mark whispers, and he wants it to sound dominate and threatening but it just sounds a little whiny and desperate. Fuck. 

Jinyoung's hand tightens on his thigh, fingers torturously close to his dick. "What do you want me to do, hyung?" 

_Fuck._

His self control breaks, then, and then he's guiding Jinyoung's hand to his crotch by the wrist. He lets go when Jinyoung cups his dick through his jeans, squeezing gently. Mark sinks his teeth into his bottom lip so that he doesn't make some ridiculously loud noise, but god if Jinyoung touching his dick like this doesn't make him want to scream. He leans his head back against the seat, face to the ceiling, trying to keep his breathing even as Jinyoung palms his cock through his pants. His eyes flutter closed, Jinyoung's fingers feeling expertly deft at this despite trying to get him off through a layer of denim. Every time the heel of Jinyoung's hand presses down and along the length of his dick, he feels more and more like he's going to explode. Jinyoung's face is still buried in the crook of his shoulder, the younger boy breathing unevenly and licking out at the skin of his throat  but not really tasting it. If Jinyoung is willingly trying to get him off over his jeans, he thinks it's safe to assume he can attach himself to Mark's neck with his mouth without an issue. He wants to say something about it, but the was Jinyoung is touching him sends all his thoughts scattering. 

Jinyoung starts to rock his hand a little faster, and it's mindblowingly good despite being a tad uncomfortable through his pants. Mark's hips lift off the seat, giving him more intense friction against Jinyoung's palm that drags a low moan from his mouth. He immediately bites his bottom lip hard enough he tastes copper, and he hopes like hell the cab driver didn't hear it. Heat starts to pool in his stomach, and he's about to tell Jinyoung to keep going when the cab finally stops moving. 

"We're here," the cab driver says, and then it's over. 

Jinyoung abandons him almost immediately, throwing himself from the cab and going around the pay the driver. Mark just sits there in a daze for a moment, still mostly drunk and now sporting a painfully hard erection that was so close to getting taken care of. He hears Jinyoung beckon for him from outside the cab, waiting by the doors of their dorm. Mark climbs out stiffly, the heel of his own hand pressed down against his dick to try and conceal it from the driver. The cab takes off as soon as he's out on the sidewalk, and Jinyoung is just watching him where he's standing by the doors. 

"C'mon," he says, and there's nothing in his voice to give what he's feeling away. "It's cold." 

Frustrated and confused, Mark doesn't even look at Jinyoung when he pushes past him to get inside. He kicks off his shoes angrily by the door and heads immediately to the bathroom, one hand on the knob. Listening carefully, their dorm is almost entirely silent save for some white noise of fans or quiet music players, which means the rest of the boys are asleep. He throws open the door to the bathroom, turning on the light and squinting against the brightness. Turning, he goes to shut the door and lock it when a hand on the other side stops it and pushes it back open. 

Jinyoung is in the doorway, and Mark just looks at him in confusion for a second before Jinyoung is pushing into him, moving him out of the doorway and locking the door behind the both of them after he closes it. Mark thinks he must be dreaming when Jinyoung takes him by the hips and shoves him backward into the counter, his back hitting it painfully and both hands going to steady himself against the marble. His eyes bug open when Jinyoung drops to his knees in front of him, hands coming up to undo his belt buckle. 

"Jinyoung-ah," he says breathlessly, watching in disbelief as the other boy quickly and aggressively pulls his belt all the way off, dropping it to the tile floor with a quiet clink. _This is crazy,_ he thinks to himself, and he wonders if he passed out somewhere earlier in the night and this is just insanely real feeling fever dream. But then Jinyoung is popping the button on Mark's jeans and looking up at him, eyes dark with a desire that fans heat straight into Mark's gut. "Jinyoung, what are you doing?"  
   
"Finishing what I started," he says, voice thick and husky, and Mark barely has time to think about how he might die before this is over when Jinyoung yanks his jeans down to the tops of his thighs. 

If Jinyoung is anywhere near as drunk as he is, he doesn't show it. His hands slide up Mark's legs, letting his fingertips slip underneath the hem of his boxer briefs and dragging up, touching as much skin as he can. Mark pulls in a sharp breath, hands tightening on the counter before he grabs the back of Jinyoung's head. The way Jinyoung's eyes are fixed on the wet spot staining the front of his underwear is driving him crazy, and he so desperately wants Jinyoung to get on with it already: after getting blue balled in the cab, he's so hard it's almost painful. Jinyoung pulls his hands out of the legs of his underwear, the younger boy's breathing also unsteady and harshly loud in the quiet bathroom. He lightly trails his fingers along the outline of Mark's cock through his underwear, and he moans quietly. Jinyoung's eyes flick up to his, a devilish look in them as he hooks two of his fingers in the waistband of Mark's underwear. 

"Tell me you want it," Jinyoung says, other hand teasingly creeping up his inner thigh so slowly that Mark's hips twitch, the feeling of Jinyoung's fingertips on the bare skin so intense his entire body feels taut and electric like a live wire. "Say it." 

Jinyoung is the one who started all this and he's gonna make _Mark_ beg for it? Aish, this punk. Mark's head is still swimming from the wine, and if he was sober, he'd tell Jinyoung to shove it and show him some respect but the alcohol seriously has his priorities out of order. Before he can stop the words, he's looking down at Jinyoung with one hand in the younger boy's shoulder and whispering, "do it, Jinyoungie—" 

Jinyoung leans forward, his mouth so close to Mark's dick he can feel the ghost of his breath against when he whispers, "say the words, hyung." 

Mark wants to die. Jinyoung on his knees in front of him and two seconds away from sucking his dick but still making Mark beg for it, and Mark knows that he'd beg for it every single day of his life if it meant he could see Jinyoung like this again. "Suck me off, Jinyoungie," he breathes, the words coming out in a quiet rush. "Please. Please." 

Looking away, Jinyoung hooks the fingers of his other hand in the waistband of his underwear and pulls them down to the tops of his thighs, and the feeling is so much like relief he could cry. Jinyoung barely hesitates to look at his dick before he's wrapping his thin fingers around the base and lapping at the head, sending devastating pleasure through him. He bites off a moan, fingers digging harder into the marble counter to control himself while Jinyoung teases him, running his tongue up the length of his cock and flattening it along the way. His body feels like it's burning up, his sweatshirt rucked up around his hips. Sweat plasters his hair to his temples and runs down his back, and he finally grabs the bottom of his sweatshirt to tear it off over his head. His sleeveless shirt almost comes off with it, settling lopsided across his chest when he tosses his sweatshirt to the floor. The cold air of the bathroom whispers across the sweat on his skin, making him shiver. Jinyoung chooses his time to take Mark's cock into his mouth, closing his lips almost around the base and keeping his hand on whatever his mouth can't fit. He groans loudly, unaware of the way it echoes against the   walls of the bathroom. The tight, wet heat of Jinyoung's mouth has every nerve in his body lighting up like the Fourth of July. 

"Jinyoungie," he pants, burying one of his hands into his own hair to keep from grabbing the back of Jinyoung's head as he starts to work Mark's dick in his mouth. "Jinyoungie, fuck—"

Jinyoung just flicks his eyes up to Mark's, and the sight of Jinyoung's pink, plump lips stained reddish from the wine stretched around his cock makes his hips jerk. It's so fucking erotic, so filthy that Mark fleetingly thinks that he could jerk off to this for the rest of his life. Jinyoung's fingers work the base of his cock in time with his mouth, and the sensations of both are so strong he feels dizzy, breath punching out of him with every stroke of Jinyoung's tongue against his length. The room spins, and he closes his eyes as Jinyoung's other hand grips his ass in his free hand, pulling strings of half-formed sentences and curses from his mouth. As Jinyoung continues to suck his dick with the finesse of a fucking professional, he can't help it: he rolls his hips forward. Jinyoung just takes it, swallowing against the head of his dick and it feels so good he wants to cry. With the hand not wrapped around his dick, Jinyoung reaches up without looking to touch Mark's stomach, running his fingers along the skin exposed by the way his shirt hangs off of him. Mark puts his hand to his mouth, biting his knuckles painfully as Jinyoung runs his hands up his abs to his chest, and Jinyoung looks up at him with triumph in his eyes when his arm is just long enough for Jinyoung to run a blunt nail across a nipple. 

He almost screams with pleasure, dropping his head back and fisting one hand in Jinyoung's hair and the other in his own. Obviously pleased by this reaction, Jinyoung does it again, sending sharp spikes of pleasure through his stomach like pinpricks. Mark tugs on Jinyoung's hair, earning him a moan that vibrates around his cock in a way that has heat pooling in his gut. He tenses, panting and stringing curses together breathlessly as Jinyoung keeps sucking his dick, his red mouth shiny with spit and looking like every wet dream he's ever had come to life. He can feel his stomach tightening, balls drawing up as his orgasm builds. 

"Jinyoung," he pants, tugging gently on the younger boy's hair. "Fuck, jus' like that, I'm gonna come—" 

He thinks Jinyoung is gonna pull off before he does, but Jinyoung just hollows out his cheeks and it's all over; Mark's orgasm tears through him like a tidal wave, his hips jerking as Jinyoung keeps sucking, the younger boy's eyes watering with the effort. He feels Jinyoung swallow, and then he's pulling off with a slick, wet pop that buries itself in Mark's ears. He barely has time to pull up his underwear and his jeans back around his hips before his knees give out, sliding to the floor in front of Jinyoung. Mark feels lightheaded with how heavy he's breathing, sweat pouring down his back like he just ran a marathon. Jinyoung just smiles at him, looking so proud of himself. Mark sways forward, kissing him sloppily on the mouth and humming when Jinyoung smiles against his lips. 

He puts a hand on Jinyoung's thigh, voice slurred with alcohol and the sated laziness of orgasm when he says, "let me return the favor." Jinyoung doesn't say anything as Mark runs his hand up Jinyoung's thigh to his crotch, and he's surprised when it's already wet. He looks down, eyes widening at the dark stain on the front of Jinyoung's jeans. 

"Did you—" 

Suddenly bashful, Jinyoung flushes bright red and looks away, nodding. 

"Did you touch yourself?" Mark is amazed he didn't notice. 

"No." 

"You—" if Mark hadn't just had the orgasm of a lifetime, he thinks he'd already be hard again at the notion of Jinyoung coming in his jeans just from sucking Mark off. "Just from that?"

Jinyoung shrugs, his feigned bashfulness gone already. There's a grin pulling up one side of his mouth that Mark wants to kiss off his face before fucking him within an inch of his life. He stands up then, making a face as he readjusts his pants where they stick uncomfortably to him. Extending a hand, Jinyoung helps him to his feet. "C'mon, hyung. Bedtime." 

Jinyoung walks to his room with him, stopping in the doorway. Mark turns to look at him, not missing the soft expression on Jinyoung's face as he watches Mark pull out his pajama bottoms. Before he changes, Mark steps forward to lean against the doorframe a few inches away from Jinyoung. 

They don't say anything for a moment, just watching each other's faces, the moment intimate and gentle in a way that has Mark wanting to pull Jinyoung in for a hug and cuddle him. Jinyoung cracks a small smile, his eyes crinkling. "What?"

"Nothing," Jinyoung says, voice so soft and sweet he feels his heart skip a beat. "But there's no way we're cuddling in these sticky jeans." 

Laughing quietly, Mark whips Jinyoung in the side with his pajama bottoms while pushing him out of the doorway. He wants it to be strange or unsettling that Jinyoung seemed to know what he was thinking, but there's a reason he thinks Park Jinyoung is the most annoyingly intuitive person he knows. 

**Author's Note:**

> i'm screaming


End file.
